Morgenstern-Herondale Rivalry
by xxmadworldredemptionxx
Summary: AU/AH: The Morgensterns and Herondales were sworn enemies, embittered by reasons neither of their children understood. Still, that didn't stop Clary and Jace from falling in love with each other. Now, if only their parents would agree to a truce... CLACE TWO-SHOT [T]
1. Morgenstern-Herondale Rivalry

_**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the original TMI series and characters. Any familiar quotes that you recognise from the TMI books should, of course, be attributed to the ingenuity of Cassie. However, the plot lines and other character developments etc. in this story belongs to me,**_ _ **xxmadworldredemptionxx**_ _ **. Please do not copy, reproduce, translate, or repost these stories elsewhere without my permission.**_

* * *

 **MORGENSTERN-HERONDALE RIVALRY**

* * *

Dinner at my parents' was a stiff affair. Then again, every gathering which basically involved them—and Jace—was.

No words were spoken, and meals were eaten with a passive-aggressive kind of silence. Every so often, Dad would purposely scrape his knife against the china, creating an unnecessarily loud, shrieking noise that would make me cringe. I've lost count of the number of times I glanced his way, only to notice him glaring at my husband. And because Jace was, well, Jace, he would glare right back, regardless of how many times I'd pinched his thigh and hissed at him to "cut it out".

There was no hate lost between them. The Morgensterns and Herondales were the bloody reincarnation of the Capulets and Montagues—with the exception of the brutal spilling of blood, thank God. They were sworn rivals in every aspect, from sports to business, to stocks, auctions and real estate—you name it. And just like Romeo and Juliet did, Jace and I were the first of our families to break the 'no-fraternizing-with-the-enemy' code.

We met during our freshman year of college, fell in love, and—against the furious protests of both our families—got married almost immediately after our graduation. Because neither of our parents supported our relationship, our wedding was held in a civil court instead, with our closest friends posing as our witnesses.

There had been numerous threats—from our fathers mostly—to cut us off from our inheritance, but we stayed firm with our decision to be together. Jace was the only child in his family, and thus the only heir to the Herondale empire, so his inheritance was pretty much a sealed deal. By the time he was 25, he'd been promoted to COO, just a rank below his father's.

On the other hand, I was in a compromising position. I had an older brother so it wouldn't have mattered to my dad if he'd disowned me. But by some miraculous stroke of luck, he hadn't. Sure, Valentine had refused to speak to me for the first six months of my marriage to Jace, but underneath all that simmering tension and boiling rage, I knew that my father loved me. Even if he failed to show it since my mutinous decision five years ago, I knew that I would forever hold a soft spot in his stubborn heart.

I could only hope that with time, Jace and I would be able to change my parents' minds; that they would finally come around to the fact that the Herondales and Morgensterns were now family. Jace's parents, like mine, were slow at accepting our marriage, but they were closer to it than either of my parents were.

It still made my eyes brim with tears when I remembered my success of coaxing a genuine smile out of his parents just last week. We had gone over to their place for dinner to break the news that I was 14 weeks pregnant, and though their reactions had been undecipherable at first, their elation finally broke through when Jace showed them the sonogram of our baby.

Enemy's daughter or not, I was expecting their first grandchild—one that would carry the Herondale name—and that made Celine and Stephen content, to say the least.

Which brought me to the real purpose of our visit to my parents' house. We had come bearing the intention to spill the beans of my pregnancy, but with the way things had been progressing so far, the opportunity seemed to slip further and further away from my grasp with every passing second. For one, I wished my father would stop scraping his damn knife against the plate… It was driving me nuts!

I was about to open my mouth to initiate some small talk (or to politely tell my dad to knock it off with his serial killer attitude) when the doorbell rang. Dad immediately stood up with a smirk, as if he had been anticipating a guest the entire time. I frowned at his reaction while my mother hurried to answer the door.

"Who's that?" I couldn't help but ask.

Dad looked over at Jace, then at me, and smiled. "You'll see," he answered cryptically.

No sooner than he'd uttered those words, Mom returned to the dining room with our presumably invited guest. My heart sank faster than the Titanic when I realized who it was. Sebastian Verlac. The man my parents had originally intended for me to marry. What was he doing here?

"What's he doing here?" Jace finally spoke up, anger barely concealed in his tone.

Dad looked at him disapprovingly, as if annoyed by the mere fact that my husband had chosen this particular moment to speak.

"I was invited," Sebastian answered in a cool tone.

Jace scoffed in disbelief, and I looked over at him in confusion. I couldn't understand his cold hostility towards Sebastian. As far as I knew, they had never even met before tonight, and I had never told him that I was previously engaged to the latter either. Granted, Sebastian was far from the list of my top ten favorite people in the world, and him being in the same room as my current husband wasn't the most ideal situation, ever. But why was Jace acting as if he was seconds away from throttling the guy? What did he know about Sebastian that I didn't?

"You planned this, didn't you?" Jace's voice was controlled, stiff, when he addressed my father. "This is all just another one of your tricks to ruffle my feathers, isn't it?" He cocked his head to the side, recognizable anger brewing in his golden eyes.

Dad gave him a contrived smile. "Funny, that," he said. "It amuses me that you think I care enough about you to actually 'plan' something for you. Sebastian was invited to our house days before Clarissa even told us you were coming over for dinner. If anything, you're the intruder here."

I gripped Jace's arm when his jaw clenched, the exact same time his left hand curled itself into a ready fist. "Please." He let out a mirthless laugh. "Everything you do is a bloody test for me. You planted this _idiot_ "—he gestured to Sebastian—"as a mole in my company two years ago. I lost _millions_ of dollars because of _him_. Because of _you_. But I didn't say anything because of Clary. Believe me, if it weren't for her, I would have dragged your ass to court and ripped you apart."

My eyes widened at this; I couldn't believe that I was only hearing about it for the first time. I remembered a period of time—two years ago—when Jace was stressing over work a hell lot more than he usually was. He would often come home late, within the wee hours of morning, then leave before I even woke up. Weeks passed and it had developed into a pattern that made it impossible for me to ignore. But when I'd confronted him, he had waved me off and told me it was nothing.

But it wasn't nothing. My sweet and gentle husband had turned into a snappish and broody version of himself. Where we would usually have breakfasts, lunches and dinners together almost every day without fail, he began pulling away from me. He would rarely even speak two words to me when we were in the same room. It had worried me so much that I started to speculate things…wondering if the reason for it was because he had been having an affair.

And when I brought that up, well, you could imagine the fire it started. We'd fought so much that I had been convinced then that our entire marriage had been constructed on a foundation of infatuation and lies; that after so long of trying to prove our parents wrong, our relationship would finally come crumbling down in divorce.

The turning point was when I'd packed my bags and walked out of our penthouse one night after a particularly horrible fight. I'd stayed with Isabelle—only because I knew that I couldn't show my face at my parents' house, not without them telling me "I told you so"—and contemplated sending Jace the divorce papers.

But before I could decide on anything solid, he had turned up at Isabelle's doorstep and begged for my forgiveness. We'd finally talked, and though he was never specific, he'd explained that his aberrant behavior had been triggered by major loss of company profits. I had been angry at him, but eventually, I'd understood. He had a lot of responsibility riding on his shoulders, and expectations built on generations of Herondale success. It was a lot of pressure that was bound to test his will at some point.

Little did I know that my father had been the one pulling the strings… I mean, he'd tried to sabotage Jace's company—and indirectly, my marriage—by using Sebastian? The idea was never an impossibility, but I had to admit, it was the furthest thing from my mind. It was an all-new low, even for my father.

"You dare to throw accusations at me and insult me in my own home?" Dad's raised voice broke me out of my thoughts.

"You can hardly call it an accusation when there's actual evidence of your crimes, Valentine," Jace retorted with another scoff. "It's only a matter of whether I choose to act on it—which I haven't."

"Is that a threat?"

Jace looked at me then, his golden eyes softening a fraction, before returning his steely gaze to my father. "As much as I hate you, I would never do that. Not because I actually care about you," he said, mimicking my father's words from earlier, "but because I care about my wife. She loves you… You're her father, and I respect that." Jace sighed as he slowly stood up from his seat, looking by no means defeated, but as always, for me, subdued. "But I can't stay in the same room with this...jerk anymore," he said, inclining his head towards Sebastian.

"Then by all means, leave," Dad said coldly. "You were never welcome here in the first place. You can take your arrogance with you and get off my property."

Jace gave him a curt nod. "As his Majesty pleases."

I would have expected my husband to pull me up along with him and lead us out of my parents' house, but instead, he bent down, and tenderly kissed my temple. "Darling, take your time and finish your dinner. I'll be waiting in the car," he said in the softest of tones, a stark contrast to his demeanor with my father earlier.

He was about to pull his arm away from my grasp, but I held onto him tighter. I shook my head at him. "Don't go, Jace," I whispered.

"I'm not leaving you. I'll just be waiting outside."

"Let him go, Clarissa. He's not worthy of you," Dad interjected.

My response came out faster than I could even process it in my mind. "Oh, and you are?" I glared at him, feeling an inexplicable sense of satisfaction when his expression mirrored surprise. I had never talked back to my father, even when he'd told me that I couldn't marry Jace.

"I've had it with you, Dad," I said, a sob unconsciously tearing through my chest. "I love you—that's never going to change. You and Mom raised me and gave me everything I have. I will always remember and appreciate that. But this?" I gestured to him first, then Sebastian. "All I ever want from you is your blessing. For you to be happy for me. I've put up with everything you've been throwing at me and Jace because I had hope that you will change…

"But I can see what a foolish mistake that was." I stood up with more force than I intended to, causing the chair to be pushed backwards a notch. "I won't tolerate you making jabs at my husband and sabotaging his family business anymore. I won't sit here and eat my dinner like a civil person when you so obviously fail to comprehend the meaning of the word 'civil'." I took in a ragged breath as I felt Jace wrap his arms around my waist to steady me.

"And if you're so intent on being like this, then you can forget about ever meeting your grandchild."

Everyone's eyes—save for mine and Jace's—widened even more at my revelation, and their gazes instantaneously zoomed in on my still-flat stomach. I placed my hand on my belly, wanting to shield my baby from all the people who despised and oppressed his father.

Jace's hand covered mine. "Let's go, Clary."

Taking their collective silence as my answer, I turned around and left with my husband.

* * *

 **The Next Day:**

Jace was gone the moment I woke up. I'd spent the first ten minutes walking around our penthouse and calling out his name, but everywhere I looked, he wasn't there.

When we'd gotten home last night, we both immediately fell into bed and went to sleep. We didn't say anything. Even the car ride home had been silent. The only time Jace had spoken to me was when he'd asked me if I was hungry—I knew that if anything, he was concerned about our baby, but I just wasn't in the mood for eating. The implication of what I'd said to my parents had weighed heavily on my heart, and I had just been overwhelmed with exhaustion.

Then this morning, as strange as it might sound, I woke up missing Jace.

Maybe it was partly due to hormones, but when I realized that my husband had left for work, I'd immediately burst into tears in the kitchen. Jace had been considerate enough to make breakfast for me, so there was that, at least—but it still didn't satisfy my craving need for him.

I pulled out my phone when it beeped with a new message. Entering the passcode into my phone, I skimmed through Jace's message:

 _Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. Had an early meeting today. Anyway, hope you're enjoying the breakfast I left for you x_

I sighed, a little annoyedly, then begrudgingly typed back a reply:

 _I wish you had woken me up. Missing you like crazy._

His response was almost instantaneous. _I'm sorry I didn't. You looked tired and I wanted you to rest. I promise to make it up to you later. I miss you too x_

I rolled my eyes and placed my phone back on the island, absentmindedly rubbing my hand across my belly. Startled, I looked down when I realized something that wasn't there before: a bump.

An actual, showing baby bump.

I laughed to myself, unable to stop rubbing it. It was a strange sensation, knowing that I had a baby—Jace's baby—inside of me. The morning sickness aside, I hadn't quite processed that I was going to be a mother…until now.

And in spite of everything that had happened last night, I was overjoyed. Here, my parents couldn't taint my happiness. It belonged to me and Jace. They could say what they wanted to say to us, do what they wanted to try to break us apart, but Jace and I were a family of our own.

I wasn't ungrateful enough to say that I didn't need my parents to live—I would always love them and want them in my life—but from now on, I was going to start putting my own family first. I needed to live for myself.

Making a split second decision, I finished the rest of my breakfast and went upstairs to get ready. I couldn't wait for Jace to get home to share with him about my recent development, so I was going to pay him a visit at his office instead.

* * *

 **One Hour Later:**

Herondale Corp. was impressive—not that I wasn't aware of the fact. In most ways, it was similar to Morgenstern Enterprises, but unique in a way I couldn't quite pinpoint. But what baffled me was the realization that I had never once stepped foot into my husband's workplace until today…and we had been in a relationship with each other for nine years and married for five!

"Welcome to Herondale Corp. My name is Amatis Graymark. How may I assist you today, Ma'am?" The kind-looking woman sitting at the front desk greeted me.

"I'm here to see Mr Herondale," I said after clearing my throat. I stumbled forward while smoothing down my coat inconspicuously, still in awe of my current environment.

"Mr Herondale left over an hour ago for a golf meeting at Southampton," Amatis said with a motherly smile.

I felt my face screw itself into a frown. Jace golfing? Since when did the man ever play golf?

"Mr Herondale Jr. is in his office though, but unless you've a scheduled appointment with him, I'm afraid I can't send you up to meet him," Amatis continued.

I mentally smacked my palm against my forehead. "Yes, that's the Herondale I was looking for, actually. Jace," I clarified. "I'm his wife. Clarissa Herondale."

Amatis's eyes widened. "Oh, Mrs Herondale!" she said, sounding flustered. "I apologize for not recognizing who you were sooner."

I quickly waved off her apology. "Don't worry about it, Ms Graymark. But could you bring me up to see my husband? I'm here to surprise him."

"Of course, Ma'am. Right this way." Amatis quickly stood up and led me towards the elevator. Once we were inside, she pressed the button for the top floor. 30.

I smiled to myself as I absentmindedly hummed along to the tune of the elevator music. It was a classical piece by Bach, one which I've heard Jace play numerous times before on his grand piano. I rolled my eyes and shook my head a little in amusement. Figures it was something he listened to at work, too.

"Mr Herondale would be delighted to see you, Ma'am," Amatis remarked, probably just to make casual conversation. "He did seem a little down this morning."

I swallowed, my excitement dipping for a moment as I recalled the unpleasant night we had at my parents' house. If only life were simple…IF ONLY… "Well, with the news I have for him, I really hope he does feel better," I answered as I stroked my belly and gave Amatis a conspiratorial wink.

Her face lit up in understanding. "Oh! That is exciting news indeed!" she gushed.

I nodded with a blush. "It's all fairly new so I'd appreciate it if you keep it to yourself for now."

"Of course, Ma'am," Amatis grinned.

We arrived at Jace's floor sooner than I was prepared for, but at the same time, I was excited to see him. I know, I know. It's kind of ridiculous since we see each other every single day—and I wouldn't go far enough to label myself as the clingy wife—but still. I always looked forward to seeing Jace.

He was so focused on his task that he didn't even look up when Amatis knocked on his door and ushered me inside. "Mr Herondale, Mrs Herondale is here to see you." She gave me a polite smile before excusing herself and closing the door behind her.

Jace sighed but still didn't look up from his paperwork. I was mildly irritated by the fact that he was studiously ignoring my presence. What am I, chopped liver? (Oops, there goes the pregnancy hormones again).

Finally, he spoke up, "Yes, Mother? What do you need from me?" He glanced up and our eyes met, his betraying surprise and mine annoyance.

I raised both my eyebrows at him, since I was apparently incapable of raising just one. "Mother? Really, Jace?"

He spluttered for the first few times before finally managing a proper sentence. "Well, what did you expect? She said Mrs Herondale!"

"Am I not Mrs Herondale then?" I challenged him.

"Of course you are, baby. I never did say otherwise. It's just...you've never visited me at work before."

I shrugged. "I never quite found the incentive to pay you a visit until now."

"Incentive?"

"Reason," I corrected myself. Subconsciously locking the door behind me, I began striding towards my husband's desk. "Anyway, I was being serious when I said that I missed you. I really, really wanted to see you. And..." I dragged out the word while dramatically taking my time to unbutton my coat and revealing my outfit underneath. It wasn't risqué or anything, but the dress I wore clung tightly to my body, accentuating my growing bump. I rubbed it teasingly when I saw Jace's eyes widen. "Herondale Junior wanted to see Daddy today. He, or she, had a growth spurt overnight, and ta-da! Now you can really tell that I'm pregnant."

Jace let out a little laugh. He extended his hand and gestured for me to come closer. I sidled up to him and placed my hands on his shoulders; his immediately went to my hips, then slowly slid up until he was cupping the sides of my belly. "Wow," he breathed. "I really don't remember seeing this last night. That's kind of freaky...but amazing."

"Yeah, it is," I agreed softly.

Jace opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but he was interrupted by a sound neither of us had anticipated: my stomach.

And no, unless I was having an alien baby, I can deduce that it's nothing to do with the baby at all, but the fact that I was feeling hungry—again.

Jace looked up at me, amused. "Hungry?"

From the heat in my cheeks, I knew that my face was probably as red as my hair. "You think?"

"No need to look so flustered, love. I understand," he smirked amusedly at me. "You are eating for two, after all." Jace pulled out his cellphone and began scrolling through the food delivery app.

"Now, what strikes your fancy? Chinese? Italian? Mexican? Indian? Mediterranean?"

Hearing Jace list out the food options at random, I could have sworn my stomach grumbled again, though this time it wasn't nearly loud enough to catch my husband's attention. "Hmm, I don't know," I said, stroking my belly. "I think _kofta_ and _hummus_ sounds nice right about now…"

Jace chuckled. "Middle Eastern cuisine, it is…"

* * *

After a _very_ hearty meal—as usual, my husband went a little overboard with the spending, not that I minded one bit; I'm not even exaggerating when I said that I finished _everything_ —the two of us ended up lounging on the leather couch in Jace's office.

It was a nice change for once, just sitting there and basking in each other's presence…until Jace's office phone started ringing.

The pair of us let out a simultaneous groan before my husband reluctantly heaved himself off the couch and walked over to his desk to answer the phone.

I contemplated asking Jace if we could go home early and spend some more time with each other, but his souring expression and stern tone as he spoke into the receiver told me that none of that was happening. So I shoved those thoughts away, and opted for concern instead.

When Jace finally hung up, he looked angry. "Unbelievable," he muttered underneath his breath, along with several other words I couldn't make out.

"Is everything okay, honey?" I asked him.

He shook his head again and knelt down in front of me. "I just… I need to head over to the board room," he finally said.

"What is it?" I pressed as I ran my hands through his curls, trying to soothe him.

Jace sighed. "Your father's here," he explained reluctantly. "Said that it was urgent that I meet with him. A part of me just wants to call security and haul him out of here but—" He shrugged. "I don't know what I'm thinking, Clary."

Honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. My father had no business with either Jace or his father, so what was he doing on enemy territory? To spew more hurtful barbs at my husband? To damage our deteriorating father-daughter relationship even further? "Can I come with you?"

"I don't know if it's a good idea to put yourself in such stressful situations. We haven't even talked about last night, Clary. Are you sure you want to put yourself through another confrontation that has every potential of going wrong?"

"He's my father, Jace," I told him, the same thing I have for the last nine years. "I just want to know what he wants from you—from us, is all."

Jace nodded and planted a long kiss on my forehead as his callused hands cupped my cheeks. "Okay. Let's go see what your old man wants."

Quietly, we made our way towards the board room where my father was apparently waiting in.

I grasped Jace's hand tighter when I saw the man in question sitting at one of the chairs adjacent to the head of the table. He looked put together like always, but somehow, there was a certain haggardness to him that wasn't there before.

"Clarissa," Dad sounded surprised, "What are you doing here?"

I took the seat opposite my father while Jace sat at the head. "I think I should be the one asking you that question, Dad. This is my husband's company, after all," I said, emphasizing on the word 'husband'.

"Fair point, I suppose. Your mother used to do the same—visit me at work, I mean."

"Cut to the chase, Valentine. In case you've forgotten, you're on my property," Jace interrupted impatiently. "So let me ask you again. What. Do. You. Want?" He glared at my father, whose only response, strangely, was a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Jace looked at my father as if he had grown two heads. Frankly, I was doing the same thing, too. Did my father just apologize to my husband?

"I came here to apologize," Dad said in a clearer tone this time.

Jace let out a bitter laugh and I was immediately transported back to their argument from last night. "What are you trying to pull here, Valentine?" he demanded. "Look, I know you hate me and all, and that's fine. I hate your guts, too. But please! At least have some decency and respect for your daughter to not do this—whatever the hell this is—in front of her!"

"I am not trying anything, Jace," Dad said, stunning the both of us. Jace. He'd finally called Jace by his first name—not 'Herondale'. "The reason I'm here today is because of my daughter."

"Me?" I asked him unsurely.

Dad looked down, his expression bearing one of shame. "Honestly, I don't even recall how this feud with Stephen even started," he started to explain. "It had been going on for so long that I just…I couldn't put it behind me. I was blinded by it." He swallowed. "But I do know this. It has nothing to do with either of you."

"Tell me something, Dad. If I hadn't been visiting Jace today and we never ran into each other, would you have said the same thing to him?"

"Clarissa," Dad begged, "I know it seems far-fetched that I would have a change of heart overnight, but please, believe me. I'm sorry I let my pride get in the way of your happiness. I'm sorry it took me so long to finally see that. You, Clarissa, are far more important to me than a useless grudge." Dad held my gaze, and I saw that within the depths of his dark eyes, there was sincerity in what he was saying.

"What changed your mind?" Jace asked the question that had been burning on the tip of my tongue but couldn't articulate.

I figured Dad's answer even before he said it. It was obvious from the way his gaze darted to my stomach. "The baby," he said. "I realized yesterday that if I continued down this path of hatred, I would be hurting an innocent. That I wouldn't just be losing my daughter, but my only chance of knowing my first grandchild."

"Jon would have settled down eventually and given you Morgenstern grandchildren, you know," I told him. "But my baby is going to be a Herondale."

Dad smiled. "It's just a name, isn't it?"

"I could have told you that five years—hell, nine years ago," Jace muttered. "Bloody late you are to catch on, aren't you? Ow!" He flinched when I slapped his arm.

"Language," I hissed before returning my attention to my father. He looked at me with a hopeful expression, and though I knew he'd hurt me before, I couldn't turn him down. If my father was willing to change now, what kind of a person would I be to reject him? Better late than never, right?

"I forgive you, Dad."

No sooner than I'd said those words, I found myself being scooped up into my father's arms, and hearing his fevered whispers of thankyous in my ear. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, but this time, they were of happy ones. I had missed this, and God, was it a relief to finally have my father back on my side.

"I love you, Clarissa."

"Love you too, Daddy," I whispered back.

When our hug ended, Dad patted Jace on the back, the same way he used to do with my brother (not that Jace was my brother, ew). I smiled. "I know it's 'bloody late', as you would put it, but welcome to the family, son," he said.

Jace rolled his eyes but eventually gave in with a smile. "Yeah, thanks Dad."

"Dinner at our house. Saturday night?" Dad proposed. "I'm extending my invitation to your parents as well, Jace. I think it's about time we bury the hatchet."

"I'll let them know," my husband replied.

At the exact moment, the door opened, and lo and behold…a fuming Stephen Herondale, armed with a golf club, stepped into the room. _Uh-oh._

"Or you can tell my dad yourself and bury the hatchet now," Jace amended, pulling me to safety.

"Morgenstern," Stephen growled.

"Herondale, I come in peace," Dad backed away with wide eyes. "Stephen! Put that damn golf stick down!"

* * *

 ** _A/N: So if you're an old reader, you would probably recognize this particular story as part of the one-shot series_ Partners In Love _, which I posted back under my old account xxmadworldreveriexx. As with most (if not ALL) of my stories, I've done a fair bit of tidying up to both the language and content, so you would definitely spot changes here and there. Note: Most of my stories will be rated T because I personally feel that they_** ** _work just fine without pushing the boundaries of an M rating (unless, of course, they deal with some dark or sensitive issues), so there._**

 ** _Completely unrelated side note though: Anyone here a fan of Star Wars? I'm TMI all the way, but I'm also a Star Wars geek!_**

 ** _~ Until then, my lovelies!_**


	2. Epilogue: Unrivalled Family Gatherings

_**Author's Note:**_

 _At the suggestion of one reviewer, I decided to extend this story into a two-shot. This update is the so-called epilogue, entitled "Unrivalled Family Gatherings", which is simply put, what happens when Morgensterns and Herondales collide. I haven't been writing any completely new material in months-perhaps a year, even. All the stories I have in my back pocket so far are stories I've written many months ago, or even as far as three years back in the case of_ Redemption _. So I apologize if I'm a little rusty._

 _ **Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the original TMI series and characters. Any familiar quotes that you recognise from the TMI books should, of course, be attributed to the ingenuity of Cassie. However, the plot lines and other character developments etc. in this story belongs to me,**_ _ **xxmadworldredemptionxx**_ _ **. Please do not copy, reproduce, translate, or repost these stories elsewhere without my permission.**_

* * *

The day Valentine Morgenstern and Stephen Herondale squared off in the boardroom of Herondale Corp. was one of the most terrifying, bizarre, and downright comical moments in my entire life. Like, if you asked me what the highlight of the past 20+ years of my life was, that particular incident would probably be ranked under my top five.

Now, I know you're all just _dying_ to know… Did my father end up with goose-egg-shaped bump on his head, or did my father-in-law manage to come to his senses and (reluctantly) relinquished his golf club?

The answer…

Neither.

Lesson learned for Dad: When entering enemy territory, never let your guard down… _Especially_ if said enemy had just finished a game of golf and would thus be conveniently armed with the golf club/weapon capable of inflicting his opponent's demise.

Fortunately for Dad, he always seemed to carry around that fancy cane of his, and managed to summon it just in time to block Stephen's calculated swing.

You would have thought that they'd stopped right there. But no, the two grown men promptly launched into a series of wild blows and parries, much like how you would imagine two eight-year-olds having a mock lightsaber duel.

Their dialogue mid-duel had been just as entertaining—not Darth Vader vs. Obi-Wan Kenobi level of cinematic entertainment, but a _close_ second:

"You blasted fiend! How dare you set your filthy, _cheap_ shoes into _my_ building?!" Stephen bellowed as he aimed his golf club at Dad's shoulder.

The white-haired Swissman ducked just in time and retaliated with his own strike to Stephen's head. "Says you, vagrant! You probably bought _your_ shoes off the back rack of a Black Friday sale!" Dad sneered back, his nostrils flaring wildly.

"Watch your tongue, Morgenstern! My wife bought me these shoes!" Another powerful swing and miss.

"She must have poor taste then!" Dad scoffed. "Unsurprising, judging from the looks of the man she chose to marry!"

Stephen turned a bright red. " _Your_ wife has poor taste! No woman in her right mind would ever devote herself to a man with soulless black eyes!"

Dad gasped, apparently affronted. "You dare to insult the dominant genes of my proud ancestors?!"

Their weapons locked against each other in a stalemate as both men stared one another down in vehemence.

"Why, yes _sir_ , I do!" Stephen screeched.

In the end, it was Jace who managed to put an end to the debacle—but not without gaining his own share of battle scars. Lesson learned for my husband: When attempting to diffuse a fight between two irrational rivals, never put oneself literally _in between_ said individuals. The outcome, though effective, was far from desirable (as Jace's broken nose had proven).

To add insult to injury, it was that very situation—Jace's stupidity, that is—that bonded Valentine and Stephen as they took turns making jabs at my poor husband.

Ah, the ups and downs of being married to the enemy's son…

Fast forward to several months later, both the Morgenstern and Herondale clans were gathered in a hospital room, though not as a result of another egocentric altercation between the family patriarchs.

This time, it was for a happy occasion: to welcome the newest addition to the family, James "Jamie" Alexander Herondale. Our little boy, born on New Year's Day, 1st January 2018, at 5.03am, was an adorable replica of his own father, Jace Herondale, and a wonderful sight to behold.

I couldn't decide if _this_ was the happiest moment in my life—or second to the day Jace and I got married. 'Total, unadulterated bliss' was how I would describe it, holding my hours-old baby in my arms, with Jace tucked closely against my side. Yes, peace indeed… _Nothing_ could ever taint the beauty of this moment—

The sound of a throat clearing forced me to peel my gaze away from the newborn, my eyes flickering back and forth between the two likely suspects— _You guessed it: Valentine and Stephen._

I braced myself for the inevitable, and from the sound of Jace's deep intake of breath, I could tell that he was doing the same.

"I would like to hold my grandson," Both men announced in unison, then sharply turned to glare at each other.

Dad was the first to voice his dissent. "No, we agreed at dinner last month! You said that if I won that game of Scrabble, I would get to hold _my_ grandson first! And I clearly won!"

Stephen scoffed. "You _clearly_ have a problem with your memory! Or did you just conveniently forget our rematch three days ago when _I_ won?"

I cringed, remembering the awfully competitive game of Twister the two (yes, _grown men_ ) had engaged in during our most recent combined family dinner. It was astounding how they had turned a kids' game into such a serious affair—and although Stephen was inclined to deny it, I knew that he had sabotaged my dad at one point in order to declare his victory. Dad had left the game swearing up and down about how he had, ironically enough, _twisted_ his back as a result of Stephen's ruthless competitiveness.

"No, no, no! That doesn't count! There was never any indication of such stakes being involved! You didn't even formally declare a rematch, and even if you did, it would be void!" Dad passionately argued. " A rematch is only considered as such if the same game was played! Admit it, you only pushed me into playing that horrendous, back-debilitating game because you knew that you lack the intellectual capacity to beat me in the game of Scrabble! After all, your wit is about as blunt as your nose!"

Silence, as Stephen narrowed his blue eyes at my father menacingly.

"Well, the child's birth certificate clearly states 'Herondale'," he said in a pointed tone, apparently thinking it wise to alter his tactics. "Which means that I have a greater right to claim the boy as _my_ grandson. He even looks like _me_!"

To all of our surprises, Dad let out a loud, disgusted sound which resembled spitting. "Herondale, _pah_! Your name and looks means nothing! He is probably more of a Morgenstern on the inside than he appears on the outside! _My_ _daughter_ was the one who withstood the pains of labor to give birth to the child—It is only befitting that _I_ get to hold him first!"

"Well, without _my son_ , your daughter wouldn't have even given birth to the child in the first place! It's his sperm—"

"Okay, that's enough!" Jace broke in, the tips of his ears red from embarrassment.

Amazingly enough, Jamie continued to snooze peacefully despite the aggravating chest-poundings of his grandfathers.

" _Clearly_ , you two still have a long way to go before you can ever reach a common ground by talking," Jace said as he ran a hand through his tousled hair wearily. "So let's settle this the most _peaceful_ way, shall we?"

My husband reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. Apparently, peaceful solutions in the Morgenstern-Herondale handbook comprised of the flipping of a coin and the calling of heads or tails.

To Stephen's seething outrage, my dad won.

"Enough said," Valentine said with a proud, almost callous-looking smirk.

Admittedly, in the past couple of months, I have seen massive improvements in our dads. They were no longer the cold, vindictive men who sought to one-up each other all the time—in terms of their business dealings, at least. Dad's initiative of extending the metaphorical olive branch when they invited the Herondales over for dinner after their showdown at the Herondale boardroom had indeed gone a long way in ending the bitter conflict between them. They had both agreed, for the sake of Jace and I, as well as any future children we might have, that it was best to finally set aside their rivalry. But old habits _do_ die hard. Their petty arguments and insulting each other over the smallest and most inane of things was one of those habits that they have yet to overcome.

"Come now, Stephen," Dad said in a mocking tone, as he gently rocked baby Jamie in his arms. "The color green does not become you."

Stephen grumbled and looked away, before folding his arms across his chest. "Oh, but I'm fairly certain the colors _black_ and _blue_ would become _you_ ," he muttered in a bitter tone.

"Gentlemen, please," My mother, Jocelyn, finally spoke up. "Let's not start again—as convenient as it is that we're in the hospital."

"Oh, Jocelyn," Jace's mother, Celine, chimed in, making all heads turn towards her.

Surprisingly enough, since the 'reconciliation' between the Morgensterns and the Herondales, our mothers began to get along really well. It made me wonder if there was any actual bitterness between them in the first place, or if they had merely been putting on a hateful facade in order to placate their husbands. In any case, it was a relief that Jace and I could at least count on our mothers to not bite each other's heads off.

"Why don't we show the children the gifts we've been working on for our grandson?" Celine was absolutely beaming with pride as she retrieved a delicately wrapped material from her bag.

"Oh, what a wonderful idea!" Mom replied, looking equally excited as she took out her own wrapped gift for her grandson.

I smiled to myself as I realized that everyone else in the room—namely, Valentine and Stephen—had quietened as the two women began to babble about their baby gifts. It was a mercy I had been praying for since both households stepped into the room. Truly, mothers were the greatest form of blessing anyone could ask for. And since I was a mother now, I could genuinely learn to appreciate my mother's existence…

"When we found out that the baby was due sometime during the winter season, Celine and I decided we wanted to get him something warm and cosy that he could wear," Mom was explaining. "But we didn't want to just buy something off the stores. That would be so unoriginal and boring! So we took it upon ourselves to sign up for some knitting lessons…"

 _Ooh, knitting… Wait…what?!_ My eyes widened in horror. Knitting, which means… _Oh no… please don't tell me it is what I think it is…_

"Ta-da!"

Celine was the first to reveal her product—and dear God above, did it earn itself a high score on the ugliness factor.

"Um, Mother," Jace said, sounding as if he was on the verge of throwing up. "No offense to your knitting skills, but what in God's name is _that_?" He pointed to the bird-like creature that had been knitted onto the sweater, his face having taken a few shades paler. "Is that a _duck_?!"

"Honestly, Jace," Celine rebuked him, sounding offended. "Whatever would possess you to think that it's a duck? It's clearly a _heron_! Our family symbol!"

"A…heron?" Jace asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Jace, look carefully at it."

Beside me, I could have sworn my husband shuddered, obviously perturbed by his mother's invitation to take a closer examination at the 'heron-duck'.

"I see it," he begrudgingly muttered. Then turning towards me, he whispered in a hushed and slightly panicked tone, "I _don't_ see it. That thing isn't going anywhere near our son, much less _on_ him! It reeks of the foul stench of evil!"

I wanted to laugh, but for the sake of respecting Jace's irrational fear of ducks, I decided to hold it in. "We'll throw it into the bottom drawer."

"I think Celine's efforts are worth commending," Mom remarked with a tight smile, letting me know that she didn't actually mean it. But within the flicker of a second, her emerald green eyes lit up as she decided that it was her turn to present her gift. Oh joy.

I bit my lip and unconsciously burrowed myself further against Jace. If the result of Celine's knitting attempts were disastrous, what about my mom's? Oh, why did they ever think this to be a good idea? And I was just to really start appreciating the two of them, too…

"Voila!" Mom proclaimed as she brandished her own knitted sweater in the air.

I suppressed a groan. For all my mother's artistic talents, knitting wasn't one of them. Since the Morgenstern family symbol wasn't anything particularly 'interesting', Mom had taken it upon herself to kick it up a notch. I noted that she must have held hope for our little Jamie to be a redhead, because the end-result of her knitting subject was something that she probably thought to be a cherub with ginger hair. Only, it looked a lot more like the crazed, demonized doll from the slash-thriller film—

"Chucky?" Jace said, completing my thought. He looked bewildered as he turned to face me. "I don't know which is worse," he hissed to me, "my mother's attempt or yours! One looks like a bloodthirsty beast while the other one resembles the child-toy serial killer minus the scars!"

An apt summary indeed.

I was inclined to think that both were equally bad attempts, but our mothers happened to be looking to us for praise neither of them deserved. I struggled to form the right words to handle the delicate situation. If there's anything worse than Valentine Morgenstern and Stephen Herondale's petty squabbles, it was our mothers' shared abilities to guilt-trip us both in order to achieve their desired outcome.

I stood corrected. Mothers were dangerous, conniving, and emotionally manipulative beings.

I cleared my throat. "I think the two of you put in a lot of effort and dedication into this project," the words sounded strained in my mouth, "so Jace and I would like to thank you for the…thoughtful gesture."

Jace made a noise in the back of his throat that he had probably tried to pass off as agreement, but in reality, conveyed the exact opposite sentiment. He quickly covered it up with a cough. "Yes, t-thank you," he said hoarsely.

Across the room, still holding on possessively to my son, Dad sighed. "For the record, I didn't agree with your mother on the coloring of the baby's hair. I'd told her that the Fairchild genes are nowhere nearly as strong as the Morgenstern genes. But she didn't listen, no. I'm certain it would have looked so much better if she had gone with the color white for his hair!" He lamented as he stroked Jamie's fuzz of light blond hair. _Ah,_ so Dad is delusional that Jamie inherited the Morgenstern shade of blond…he would be sorely disappointed then when it darkens into a golden hue—like the Herondales'.

"Delusional as always, Valentine," Stephen had to throw his two cents' worth into the conversation. "Now, hand the child over. You've held him long enough," he said as he strutted his way up to my father, hands outstretched for the baby.

And so, round two of Herondale vs. Morgenstern has begun.

Not to anyone's surprise, Dad turned away to shield Jamie from Stephen's hands. "No," he said curtly. "It's only been five minutes. That's hardly enough time to establish a firm bond with my newest progeny."

Stephen huffed angrily. "Well, if you had it your way, I wouldn't even have the chance to hold him now, would I? One can only hope selfishness isn't a dominant gene in the Morgenstern bloodline!"

"You—" The vein on Dad's temple pulsed as he turned his vengeful glare at his in-law. " _You_ need extensive psychotherapy because it's evident that your narcissism has prevented you from recognizing your own selfish inclinations."

"Narcissism?" Stephen growled in dangerously low tone.

"Also known as egomania, navel-gazing, self-absorption, self-centeredness…shall I go on?" Dad challenged Jace's father, unperturbed by his (supposedly former) rival's murderous glare.

Stephen huffed. "I will not fall for your feeble attempts to bait me, Morgenstern. Neither will you distract me from my original task. _Hand. Over. The. Baby. Now._ " Without hesitating, the senior Herondale made a dive for the youngest Herondale, and much to my Dad's chagrin, began to try to extricate my dad's fingers away from the precious bundle. "Give him to me!"

Finally, the sharp wailing of an infant pierced the room.

"No!"

"Give!"

"No!"

"Morgenstern!"

"No!"

Amidst the sudden escalating turmoil, Jace had scrambled off the bed and frantically rushed over to our fathers to rescue his baby. Our mothers stood off to the corner, looking horrified by the behavior of their two husbands—though honestly, given their track record, _I_ was not. What I was horrified by was the fact that they were using my very delicate not-even-a-day-old-yet baby in their game of tug-of-war! If I could get up right now, I'd march over to the two troglodytes and give them a piece of my mind for endangering my child's safety!

"That's enough, both of you!" Jace stepped in between our fathers, his arms outstretched to put some actual distance between them. I heaved a sigh of relief seeing that they had stopped fighting over Jamie, and that Jace had managed to, once again, get in between the two men, but without suffering an unfortunate case of the broken nose this time.

"Now, Dad," Jace turned to my father, who stood with a defensive stance while still having a firm grip on my son. "Give Jamie to me." The little boy in question was still crying his lungs out, clearly unappreciative of the commotion his grandfathers had created amidst his peaceful slumber.

Dad hesitated. "If I return him to you now, will I still get to hold him later?" He asked my husband, sounding very much like a sheepish child who was asking an adult for permission to play with his favorite new toy. Ironic!

Jace gave him a serious father-like stare. "Only if you promise to behave yourself next time, and learn to share Jamie with my father," he simply said.

Dad emitted a sigh of defeat, then reluctantly transferred Jamie back into Jace's arms.

The moment he was snuggled up against his protective, calm-exuding father, Jamie's cries began to settle down a bit. Jace leaned down to peck his son's cheek and murmur soothing words to him. "There, there, my son. You're alright now," he was saying in a gentle tone.

Then turning to his own father, Jace continued, "And _you_ ," Stephen actually had the gall to look embarrassed at being scolded by his son, "I thought you knew better than to resort to _snatching_ to get your way. Honestly, Father, I am ashamed of your actions. Did you think Clary and I would approve of our son being caught in the middle of the crossfire? What if he got hurt?"

Stephen lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Jace," he mumbled in a remorseful tone.

Jace nodded. "You should be." Glancing in between both men, he lectured furiously, "The next time you two decide to get into another one of your petty squabbles, I want you to remember this moment and stop before you get so far ahead, my son ends up being an innocent casualty. I don't care how old he gets, you two better learn to restrain yourselves whenever he is in the same room as you, or God forbid, I will chain you both to a chair at opposite sides of the room whenever we have family gatherings. Understand?"

Amazingly enough, neither men disputed him. "Yes, Jace," Our fathers complied in unison.

"Good." Jace stepped away from the bashful elders, and the moment his back was facing them, he flashed me his charming and proud grin.

"Mother, would you like to hold Jamie next?" He extended the offer to Celine, who immediately started nodding with an excited laugh.

"Yes, yes, of course!"

Beside her, my own mother Jocelyn looked disappointed that she hadn't been given the chance to hold her grandson yet, but at least she had more grace than her husband to protest.

"Don't worry, Jocelyn," Celine said as she began to gently rock Jamie. "Ten minutes, then he's all yours," she promised.

Mom brightened up. "Alright. Ten minutes, and not a second later," she agreed.

Once Jace had returned to my side, I looped my arm around his, and clasped our hands together. He reciprocated by planting a gentle kiss on my mouth.

"Oh husband mine, you're stepping into the fatherly role fairly quickly, aren't you?" I smiled up at him. "I don't think I've ever felt so proud of you, putting our dads into their places like that."

"All part of the process," Jace returned. We both turned to look at our fathers who were, in the wake of Jace's scolding, sitting next to each other and quietly tapping away on their iPhones. Hmmm, I wonder…

"How long do you think they'll last this time?" I asked Jace.

My husband looked thoughtful for a minute. "Not long at all, I think. I wouldn't even count on them lasting an hour." Jace smirked. "It just isn't in their computing to coexist peacefully like that. Just look at them—you can clearly see their mouths twitching to say something to insult the other." I examined our fathers closely again, and sure enough, I could see what Jace meant.

"Hmm, so five minutes then," I guessed.

"Yup, a terrible shame that," Jace agreed. "I was only starting to enjoy the quiet."

"Yes, but it just wouldn't be our family without all the chaos now, wouldn't it?"

Jace put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. "Not at all, my love," he murmured softly.

True to our predictions, the peace only lasted so long. By the five-minute mark, our fathers were back at it again—and this time, playing a very apt game of _Family Feud_ on their iPhones. Five minutes further into their game, they were back to bickering and trash talking each other as if the rest of the world didn't exist. I would have shaken my head and prayed to God for it all to end, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

In the months that had followed since the announcement of my pregnancy, the Morgensterns and Herondales had made massive headway in their relationship. I wouldn't go as far to say that the hatchet has been completely buried, but I would take their petty quarrels any day over their contemptuous old days of rivalry—or worse, an estranged relationship with either of our families. This was everything Jace and I could have hoped for and more.

After all, no one really enjoys the dull monotony of peaceful family gatherings, do they?

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that! I don't think we get to see enough TMI stories of interactions between the elder Herondales and Morgensterns, so I thought it would be fun to explore that. I was greatly inspired by simplymoshingintomordor's interpretation of Valentine in her stories, so I've got to credit her for inspiring this (hopefully funny) version of Valentine. Let me know what you think of this epilogue in the reviews! Peace and love xoxo**_

 _ **p.s. To the reviewer who asked me if Jace gets fat from sitting in a chair all day long working the office, my answer is: no, he doesn't, lol. I imagine that Jace would manage to find time on his schedule to go to the gym to work out and make sure that he stays in shape. I mean, he cares about appearances, so obviously, he won't allow himself to get fat. Haha, thanks for making me laugh by asking this question, you wonderful weirdo.**_


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